


Bing!

by miscnine



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternature Universe - Maverick (1994), Chandler as Bret Maverick, F/F, Gambling, Humor, It’s horse-riding era, Joey as Anabelle Bransford, M/M, Poker, Terrible overuse of italics, Unnecessary to watch the movie to understand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23326372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscnine/pseuds/miscnine
Summary: Chandler Bing needs money for a poker tournament to determine once and for all if he’s as good as he thinks he is.(The pot to be won won’t be bad either.)However, he learns that his ego and terrible habit of deflecting with humor will always land him into trouble. No matter how hard he tries to save himself, he just digs that grave deeper.It gets worse, when he gets involved with a gorgeous thief.
Relationships: Chandler Bing/Joey Tribbiani, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. PROLOGUE

_This Old Wild West was not kind to anyone._ _Especially not so_ to loudmouthed idiots like Chandler Bing.

Chandler was sweating through all the layers of his  _ expensive _ clothes.  _ Honestly. _ His precious boots from Spain should stink by now. And this tailored, white polo from France too.

The ropes tying his limbs to his horse and the noose around his neck were also starting to get itchy. He looked up at the branch the noose was connected to and decided that he was a fucking idiot because  _ then _ his eyes were blinded by the rays too.

Chandler took a breath and tried to think of a plan for escape.

The guys who had subdued him were still there, staring at him like he was some witch they couldn’t wait to burn. In all actuality, they were in just a terrible spot as he was in; it was  _ so _ hot, couldn't they find a cooler place to kill him? Their only advantage was the privilege to wipe the sweat from their faces with their hands. This assassination was a terrible experience so far. 1/10. Too hot. Too slow a process. Also, he was being murdered. Terrible.

It didn’t help that this guy, their leader— Ross was his name— started smugly circling the tree Chandler was tied to with his horse and speaking with his annoying voice. “You know, I almost got hung myself once.”

Chandler rolled his eyes and stared at the man.

“Didn’t care for it much. How about you?” Ross grinned at Chandler, transferring the reins of his horse to a single hand to accommodate a sack that was handed to him by a goon. The goons then started to turn their horses away and leave.

“We’re gonna leave you now.” Ross feigned an apologetic expression but Chandler couldn’t see anything but his hardened eyes. “Wouldn’t want anyone to see me and get this crazy notion that I was somehow connected to your…  _ accidental death _ .”

Ross turned to leave only to come back and look at Chandler in pity. “On the other hand… It’s not a good idea for a man to be out here on his own. The mind can do terrible things.“ 

Chandler swallowed. “What, you looking to keep me company?”

Ross chuckled and threw the sack beside the legs of Chandler’s horse. “Enjoy the _company_.”

With that, Ross left and a loud hiss came from the sack.

“Ugh, snakes.” Chandler sighed and tried to figure out what to do until he heard his horse whine and felt it move. “Whoa! Whoa! No! Ugh. Don’t go, without me.” 

Chandler wrapped his legs around his horse tighter to prevent it from running from the snake that began to slither out of the sack. If this horse ran, it’ll definitely take his body with it, but he can’t say the same about his head. 

The noose was helping pull his body into two, and with his restricted breath, he broke into prayer, “Lord, whatever I’d done to piss you off… If you just get me out of this and somehow tell me what it was,… I will quickly rectify… Oh, God… the situation.”

With a desperate sigh, it had to be acknowledged: it had just been a _shitty_ week for Chandler from the beginning. 


	2. The One Where He Loses For An Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then he’s just lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poker terms used:  
> Pot - refers to the stack of money that will be won at the end of each game  
> Pip cards - refer to the card with numbers and values corresponding to the numbers  
> Face cards - refer to Jacks, Queens, Kings which have a value of ten  
> Call - action choice that adds the same amount of money to the point as the person before you  
> Bet - what a person has placed in the pot  
> Check - action choice that means you agree with the bets and wish to move to the next betting round already  
> Fold - action choice that means you drop from the game  
> Bluff - manipulation of other people to get them to fold or raise the stakes to be in your favor, even if your hand has a High Card value  
> Tells - unintentional habits/movements/dialogue of people that is very telling of whether they have a good or bad hand

It had all started when he had headed off to the town of Clearwater River to pick up some money from the bank. 

Now, he probably should have known that bad luck was on the horizon when his horse got stolen and he had to replace it with something less than a thoroughbred.

He knew his luck had to change fast; there were only four days until the poker game of the century and he was still three-thousand dollars short for the entrance fee. There was no way in hell he was going to miss it.

What did he need that game for? What were the implications?

Hm, let’s see. 

For one— he was pretty damn proud of his addition skills and well, if even fifteen people attend that winner-takes-all game  with 25, 000 dollars each to the pot— that kind of money just demands attention.

For two, Chandler wanted to prove, once and for all, that he is the best.

And so, there he was in Clearwater River.

He still remembered where everything was from his last visit. The only things that changed were the clothes of people who he swore walked the same paths and ran the same errands.

The burro he rode made all sorts of annoying whines, so he assured it that they were at their stop.

They were. In front of the bank that had the big, painted placard screaming ‘CLOSED… till the next morning.’

It wasn’t ideal but he’d make the most out of it. He was going to hole up here for the night anyway. Business will just have to wait “till the next morning.”

Chandler approached some kid who seemed to be lounging out for anyone looking to have their horses taken care of. The minute he got off the burro, the kid was taking the reins.

“How much for this?” He asked the kid, adjusting his jacket then pointing at his companion.

“For what? A day, a week, a month?”

“Oh, no, not to take care of it. To keep it. Permanently.”

The kid looked thoughtful for a second before shouting to the house. “Paul! This man wants to know if we want to buy some burro!”

“A burro ain’t even a dollar!” Was the gruff, immediate reply.

“Well, sir,” Chandler said, climbing the stairs to said house, “I’d say you got yourself a deal.”

The man shrugged and pulled a dollar out of a case. “Here’s your dollar.”

Chandler swiped the bill and smirked. “Well, he doesn’t eat much,  _ but _ he’s a regular jackass.”

He opened the door which led to a greater part of the city as he made a final comment, “And he always likes to be called Arthur.”

When he turned to leave, he came face to face with a man. 

Chandler dropped his smile and shuffled uncomfortably because the man was now glaring at him while they were chest to chest. He wasn’t familiar with the man, but he felt like he should be with the shiny jacket and styled hair. 

Chandler decided that he smelled trouble. And refried beans. So he grimaced and awkwardly slid past him. Something else told him it was  _ not _ just some chance meeting.

But he pushed that thought back, got a room, changed into a suit, and entered the first bar that accommodated gambling.

Just like that, the night had begun.

Chandler saw only one table used for gambling with five people engaged in a game. It looks like a young man in a white polo and blue vest just won quite a big pot. The other four were: these two burly men in all-beige suits; this really old man who looks like he could fall over any time and die; and finally, the weirdo he met at the door earlier.

He slapped on a neutral smile, approached the group and pointed at the seat between Burly Man 1 and Blue-Vest. “Is this seat taken?”

Blue-Vest immediately looked up at him and smiled provocatively. “Well, it is now.”

The other men looked up at Chandler just as Blue-Vest leaned on his left hand and extended the other for a handshake.

“My name is Joey Tribbiani. What do they call you?” Blue-Vest,  _ esté, _ Joey lifted an eyebrow.

“Chandler Bing. Pleased to meet you.”

“I like the game the way it is.” Weirdo spoke up, making everyone at the table turn to him.

“Oh? But I bring all sorts of pleasures to the table.” Chandler tilted his head, with a little ego. “I hardly ever bluff and I never, ever cheat.”

“I don’t believe it.” Weirdo scoffed.

Chandler chuckled, moving to sit down. “Neither do I.”

“I like the game  _ just _ the way it is.” Weirdo repeated. 

Chandler stared at him before standing upright again. “Hm. Well,...”

“Ross.” Joey supplied.

“Ross!” Chandler nodded gratefully at Joey. “I bet I can change your mind.” 

At that, everyone looked at him expectantly.

“How about this? I promise that I will  _ lose _ for at least an hour.” Chandler offered, smiling as he stared at each person  individually, stopping at Joey whose eyes widened at the proposition.

“Well, I like that.” Old Man said.

“My kind of player.” Burly Man 2 nodded.

“Sounds good to me.” Burly Man 1 agreed. 

Ross rolled his eyes. “We’re playing a five-card draw.”

“Please, sit down.” Joey gestured toward the seat, smirking. “I’m Joey Tribbiani, by the way.” He extended his hand for another handshake. His left hand, this time, showing off what was obviously a wedding ring.

“I caught it the first time.”  _ Except for the part where you’re married. _ Chandler raised his eyebrows and sat down. 

Joey nodded and watched Chandler pull his wallet from his vest and “subtly” show off the money he has. Joey, just as subtly, widened his eyes at the amount.

Chandler set a couple hundred dollars on the table then shuffled the deck of cards while humming.

“You did say you were going to lose for an hour?” Joey casually confirmed.

“I am a man of my word.” 

Burly Man 2 dealt the cards as Chandler looked at his pocket watch. 5:21 PM.

Chandler purposefully held his cards pip and face-outwards for three games. Then for the next, he placed his hand down right before the showdown. Then for the next couple, he made telling comments. And so on.

Without fail, he failed. Every single game. They teased him while they happily took pot by pot, and he just humbly raised his hands while laughing. And taking mental notes.

Moving his cards from front to back and back to front: Ross wins.

Frowning before checking his cards again: Burly Man 2 wins.

Extra effort to relax his shoulders: Old Man wins.

Raising way too consistently: Burly Man 1 wins.

Touching his neck: Joey wins.

Chandler noticed the people outside the window starting to light the torches along the roads just as he helped Joey bring the pot to his stack again. He checked his watch. 6:10 PM.

The next game was quick and also the Old Man’s first win in a while. Joey clapped as the Old Man said, “It’s about time.”

Chandler shut his watch and agreed silently. It  _ is _ about time.

They started another game. This one quickly became just between Chandler and Old Man. The others were silent and slightly wide-eyed at the sharper aura from Chandler. 

“I’ll raise you twenty.” Old Man threw chips to the pot. The waitresses started to light the candles around the bar and over their table, casting a soft glow on everyone’s faces.

“Slow down, I’m running low on chips. So, I’ll see your bet, and uh…” People were expecting him to fold. “I’ll call.”

Chandler threw most of his remaining chips to the pot.

“That’s too bad. I have two Queens.” Old Man said smugly, pulling the pot to him.

“Yeah. It’s too bad.” Chandler shrugged, placing down his hand. “I have three Sixes.”

Old Man stared at him for a while in disbelief, then sat down angrily.

“Sorry.” Chandler said, pulling the pot to himself for the first time that night.

“Nice pot. Looks like you broke your losing streak.” Burly Man 2 commented. Chandler merely smiled and nodded.

“I don’t think that one should count.” Old Man announced.

“Beg your pardon?” Chandler asked without looking up from fixing counting his chips.

“I said, I don’t think that hand should count.”

Chandler raised his eyebrows cockily. “You got any logical reason why it shouldn’t?”

“My mind wasn’t on the game.”

“Your mi-- His mind wasn’t on the game.” Chandler chuckled and looked at the others, who were stifling their laughter.

Joey lifted the corner of his lips and collected the deck to shuffle it.

“What’s your name, gramps?” Chandler tilted his head.

“Larry.”

“Larry who?”

“Larry Heckles.”

Chandler paused, dropping his chips on the table. He stuttered, “What’s your occupation?”

“I’m a gunfighter.”

Everyone leaned back on their chairs at the same time, except Mr. Larry Heckles the Old Man and the gunfighter.

Chandler nodded, mouth agape. He swallowed and looked bemused. “Well, I have to assume that since you’re still alive and playing casually with us here that… uh… that you’re good at it.”

“Care to find out?”

The others shared looks. Burly Man 2 lit a cigarette.

Chandler sighed. “Gentlemen, this hand definitely does not count.” He slid all his chips across the table. “Here, you take it all. But, hey, you mind if I hang on these two chips--”

“Have you always been this gutless?” Ross cut him off.

Chandler placed his hands down then looked to be thinking. “Hm. Yeah, I think so. Well, for as long as I can remember it anyway.” 

Chandler shrugged and smiled. “And my old papi used to say: he who fights and runs away can run away another day.”

Joey stared then rolled his eyes at him. The others also shook their heads.

Chandler put his hands up in surrender and stood up. “What? I--”

Mr. Heckles quickly stood up too and held a hand over his waistband where his gun was.

“Whoa! Whoa! Slow down!” Chandler kept his hands up. “Where’s the fire?”

The burly men quickly got their wallets and placed them in their vests. Ross leaned back on his chair. Joey stared curiously as he was in between the two.

Chandler chuckled and wiggled his fingers while looking around. “Slow down. Don’t shoot me. I’m just trying to expound. I was just saying, I don’t see what’s so great about being brave. I mean, I’m a card player. Sure, call me a gambler. And I want to become an old gambler too.” Chandler motioned at Mr. Heckles.

Joey sighed and placed a hand against his forehead.

“You’re more than that though! You’re an exceptional gunfighter from what I hear. So if I decide to go up against you, what chance would I have?” 

“The answer?” Chandler looked at the others and frowned a little. “Zero.” Then suddenly he had a gun pointed at Mr. Heckles. “Absolutely none, whatsoever.”

The men were watching him in shock. Mr. Heckles visibly swallowed.

Chandler spun the gun between his fingers one-handedly. He made a quick show of using the gun to move his vest and quickly place it in its holster.

He raised his eyebrows. “Want to see it again?” Then he made the gun pop up and pointed it at Mr. Heckles again.

Chandler made a show of trying to keep the gun but have it pop back up repeatedly. He chuckled. “Damn thing won't stay in the holster.”

Joey held a hand against his chest and grimaced at the show.

Chandler finally stopped. “Oh, come on, gramps. Let’s just play poker.” 

Everyone remained still and silent.

Chandler rolled his eyes then raised a hand. “Who here wants to play poker?”

Everyone raised their hands, and Mr. Heckles took a seat again.

“Who here wants to see some guy get killed?”

The men all shook their heads.

“Yeah! See, I’d rather be rich than dead.” Chandler sat back down too.

Joey leaned over to Mr. Heckles and almost cockily asked, “Was that fast? I thought it was fast. Was it fast? Was it?”

“Yeah.” Mr. Heckles admitted.

Joey smiled, eyes crinkling, then turned to watch Chandler shuffle and deal the cards.

“Now, where were we?” Chandler looked at Burly Man 1.

“We were just starting.”

“Oh, I think I prefer-” Chandler then turned to Mr. Heckles and said, “Draw!”

Joey grinned, as the gunfighter fought instinct to draw his gun and glared at Chandler. 

Chandler laughed and pointed. “Just kidding. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist it.”

The others hesitantly laughed too, save for Ross who stared silently.

They started another game. This time, the last two were Ross and Chandler.

“That’s seventy-five.” Ross said, throwing in chips.

Chandler hummed and started throwing in some chips. “That one takes care of your bet, and I’ll raise you… whatever I threw, which looks like… a hundred.”

They stared each other down for a while before Ross sighed and threw down his hand. “Shit. I fold.”

Chandler grinned, threw down his hand, and started to pull the pot to himself.

Ross stood up and took Chandler’s discarded hand only to find it had a High Card value. 

“That’s not allo-”

Ross angrily pointed. “You fucking bluffed! You said you never bluffed! I had a Pair of Aces!”

The others stood up and backed away.

“Actually, I said I never  _ cheated _ and I  _ hardly ever _ bluffed.”

“You’ve been cheating the whole damn game!”

Chandler set the chips he was counting on the table. “What do you think I was doing during the first hour? I was learning your tells. Incidentally, your weakness is when you put the front card to the back, the back cards to the front, and switch them all around. I never cheat. I’m just that good.”

“You’re a cheat.”

Chandler ran his hand through his hair. “Well, you also called me gutless? But I figured you were teasing, so eh…”

Ross drew forward and grabbed him by his jacket, when all too suddenly, a group of men stormed the bar.

The one leading the group shouted while holding a whip. “Get your hands off of him! We get him first!”

Another man pointed at Chandler angrily. “You shouldn’t have shown your face here again!”

Chandler held his hands up. “Look, whatever happened last time I was here, whose fault was that, huh?”

“Yours, you bastard!”

They lunged toward him, but he jumped on a table to dodge them and ran outside.

It created a large scene and a lot of people watched from a distance, including Chandler’s gambling companions.

The group of men surrounded Chandler, taunting him with their whips. Not one man pulled out a gun, so it would clearly be a lengthy fight. 

Fantastically, Chandler made sure he only fought one at a time by taking one guy’s whip and knocking two out early on. They tried to subdue him and have one guy beat him with a bat, but he quickly dodged the bat, making it hit the other guy.

Joey widened his eyes in awe from the sidelines. Ross watched from the window of the bar.

Chandler ripped the bat from the guy’s hand and started chasing them with it. The rest of the men eventually ran away.

The audience clapped, most especially his gambling companions.

Chandler adjusted his clothes and noticed Joey was watching. Joey waved, smiling, then turned to walk ahead of him back to the bar. 

When they returned to the bar, the others were too afraid to ask Chandler what he’d done to the group of men and too afraid to continue playing poker with a man who could wield a gun like a baton and beat a group on his own in hand-to-hand.

Townspeople were congratulating Chandler but he brushed them off.

Chandler kicked a chair away and pointed at Ross. “You! What were you saying before that happened?!”

“Nothing! Nothing important!”

Joey cut in, smirking. “I believe he called you a gutless coward.”

Ross stared at her in the way one would when they are trying to turn “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?” into a facial expression.

“I- I did not say that!” Ross shook his head. “I might have said… uhh… a gutless cheat, but I--”

“A cheat?!”

“But I didn’t call you a coward… I was teasing you!”

“Teasing?!”

“Yeah! Y-yeah, I was teasing.” Ross clapped his shoulder, awkwardly laughing.

“Oh.” Chandler laughed, then turned stone-cold serious. “I don’t like being teased.”

Ross turned solemn. “Hey, my friend, I’m sorry.”

Chandler laughed. “Just kidding.”

Ross sighed in relief.

Chandler looked around. “Let’s play poker?” 

He saw Joey and quickly pulled two chairs for them. “Here, let me get you a chair.”

“What a gentleman.” Joey smiled up at him, then placed his chin on his palm. “That was amazing, what you did.”

“Well, I just got lucky.” Chandler chuckled. “Oh, whose deal was it?”

Joey gestured, indicating that it was Chandler’s turn.

“Actually, we’ll have to go.” Burly Man 1 said, dragging Burly Man 2 with him.

“I’ll go too.” Mr. Heckles pushed his chair then left.

“Good night, then.” Joey called out to the men.

“Alright.” Chandler said, shuffling the deck. “Five-card draw alright with you?”

“Whatever.” Ross shrugged.

“Mind if I take six?” Chandler asked.

Joey chuckled at the look on Ross’ face.

“Just messing with you. Let’s play poker.”

And then that part of the night ended.

  
  


Chandler entered his room for the night, shedding his belt and coat as he pulled the curtains shut.

Then a knock on his door.

“Who is it?” He cocked his gun.

The reply was muffled, but expected. “Joey Tribbiani.”

Chandler hid his gun in his bag and placed his wallet in his vest. He pulled the door open with a neutral smile and raised eyebrows.

Joey was leaning on the doorframe. He had shed his blue vest and so wore his white polo, blue pants, and a perfectly guilty expression. He looked up at Chandler through his eyelashes. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re just standing in a hallway, Mr. Tribbiani. Far as I know, that’s nothing illegal in this state.” Chandler pointed out, feigning naivety. 

“If only I weren’t a married man,” Joey’s gaze flickered between Chandler’s eyes and lips, “With no right to be attracted to a man like you.”

Chandler tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Joey surged forward and kissed him, pushing him into the room.

Chandler quickly shut the door before they got too far and leaned into the kiss. It lasted a while until Joey pulled away, eyes hooded and pupils blown wide, leaving his hands on Chandler’s chest and admiring how disheveled he’d made the other man’s hair.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Joey looked to the side. “You’re everything I can’t have. It’s scary how I want you.”

“Well, stop by any time.” Chandler said, still trying to catch his breath.

“We can’t see each other again. I know we can’t.” Joey shook his head sadly and slid his hands up the other man’s neck. “I just want to take this time. Right now. While I have you in my arms…”

Joey studied Chandler’s face then raised his head to the man’s ear to whisper, “Goodbye.”

Joey turned away and started to leave for the door. Chandler pulled Joey by the hand right back into his arms, Joey’s hands landing on his chest. “Joey.”

“Oh, I--”

“How could I possibly go on--”

“I can’t--”

“Without my wallet?” 

Joey stopped struggling. He sighed and dropped his act (and arms).

“If you don’t give me back my money, I’ll have your ass thrown in jail.” Chandler demanded.

“Ugh. Damn.” Joey cursed, pushing at Chandler’s chest. “You were making eyes at me, that should have worked.”

“Don’t get mad at me!” Chandler chuckled. “I can’t help that you’re a terrible thief.”

Joey threw Chandler’s wallet at him. “Excuse you, I’m a very good thief. I’ve just been having some bad luck.”

“I know how that is.” Chandler said, putting his wallet back in his vest. “Hm. I bet there isn’t a Mrs. or Mr. Tribbiani, is there?”

“No.” Joey admitted, crossing his arms across his chest. “There isn’t and there never will be.”

“Does that trick really work with people?”

“You’d be surprised.” Joey smirked. “It works on just about everyone who isn’t exclusively into women. Pretty boy gets in your space, says the words you want to hear. You should actually  feel pretty special that I used the extended sweet talk version on you.”

“Special.” Chandler scoffed.

“Now, what do we do?” Joey groaned. “You’re not going to turn me in, are you?”

“Well, I’m a law-abiding citizen and it’s my duty to turn you in, but…” Chandler watched the sad, pitiful expression on Joey’s face. “Oh, what the hell, I got my money back and no one got hurt. Let’s just call it square.”

Joey hummed and turned to leave. However, when he had the door opened, he shut it again and turned around, frowning.

“Damn it.” Joey pouted.

“Um. What?”

“Well, you’re just so irritating! And-and likeable!”

“I have to work on that, I guess.”

“There you go! Being all likeable again!”

Chandler shrugged, smiling a little.

“You know, I think that if we’d met under different circumstances,” Joey leaned against the door and smiled cheekily. “Well, we would have just hated each other.”

Chandler laughed.

“There isn’t anyone else vying for Mr. Bing’s attention at the moment, is there?” Joey looked up at the other man, biting his lip.

Chandler’s eyes were drawn to the action. “I’m sure I would have remembered.”

Joey walked closer, smiling softly. His gaze was set on Chandler’s lips until the final second. “May I?”

Chandler chuckled and held him by the waist.

They met for their second kiss. Lips were licked open and tongues were less fighting, more exploring. 

Joey pulled away and said ‘he wished they’d never met’ and ‘goodbye’ against Chandler’s lips.

Joey tilted his head, smiling, and waved.

The door clicked shut and Chandler immediately knew what he needed to do.

  
  


Chandler caught Joey escaping out the window onto the patio.

“Can I give you some help?”

Joey shouted and dropped his bags. He slapped Chandler.

“You have to admit, I was much better the second time.” Joey crossed his arms and held his chin high. 

“Hoho, no. Not just better.” Chandler smirked, leaning on one leg. “You were  _ good _ .”

“I was?” Joey held a hand over his chest, looking flattered.

“No, you weren’t just good. You were  _ very _ good.” 

“Oh! Thank you.” 

“And, now…” Chandler started to undo his tie and remove his vest. “It’s time for you to do a little something that I want.”

Joey’s smile dropped and turned into a scowl. “Wha- How dare you? At the least, I’m a respectable person!”

Chandler chuckled while unbuttoning his polo. 

“Not in a  _ million years _ ! Not if I was  _ a hundred years old _ stuck with a hundred-year old  _ you  _ and I badly wanted it!” Joey’s staring could not have been more blatant, which terribly contradicted the words he was saying.

“Oh  _ shut _ up! I don’t want to  _ go to bed _ with you.” Chandler rolled his eyes while pulling the sleeves off him.

“What? Why not?” Joey furrowed his eyebrows, offended.

“Seriously? Make up your mind; do you want to sleep with me or not?” Chandler scoffed and laughed. “As to  _ why not _ ? Good God, I’ll fall asleep for a while and then  _ everything _ is gone when I next open my eyes.”

“Anyway…” Chandler folded his polo. “I have somewhere to be in the morning, and I need my clothes to be clean. I’m tired, and  _ you owe me _ . So, take it easy on the starch.”

Joey glared then rolled his eyes. “If I can’t touch you, I can touch your shirt and dream.” He pretended to swoon.

Joey threw the shirt through the window and started to climb in himself.

“You want help?” Chandler offered.

“Yes, thank y--” 

Chandler pushed Joey through, prompting the man to scream, then threw in his bags too.

Chandler laughed and picked up his tie and vest from the patio floor. He was about to leave until Joey’s hand reappeared through the window, shaking his wallet. 

He sighed and snatched it back. “Thank you.” 

Joey leaned out the window, and spitefully said, “Goodnight, Charles.”

Chandler winced. “It’s Chandler.”

Then the two men parted ways, and the night finally ended.


End file.
